Szot, JC - The South Window (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (15 page)

“I didn’t think you wanted to deal with the travel.”

Dan pulled away from her, his wounded voice pushing through her protective darkness, her curtain of shame.

“Aren’t you glad?” His eyes lurked in the shadows, the outline of his face and hair below her.

“Of course.” Allie straddled him. She closed her eyes and went through the marital routine of giving and receiving.

She reached for a method, a way to get through. In the back of her mind, she found one. Allie could pretend she was Tess, on stage performing for all her club peers, but was that the person she wanted to be? There was better inside of her. She turned off the voices in her head. She put everything into her performance. When Dan’s smooth and slender cock eased into her, reclaiming its place deep inside of her, a battle began to rage. Love and lust collided in her head and in her heart, one determined to fight for the finish.

With Dan being gone for so long, Allie knew she could captivate him with her performance. The emotions that once knitted them together were now fading for Allie. She didn’t think he’d miss them during this short visit. Dan’s sensitivity and touch seeped into her pores, tugging at her core, making her fight all the more difficult. Allie caught herself watching their shadows on the wall, acquaintances reunited for a brief moment in time.

* * * *

The next morning Dan slept in. Allie went down and started the coffee. Marty’s workshop door was open. He’d surely seen Dan’s car. Allie ached to talk to him. She would have to stuff herself with the old people-pleasing Allie, never confronting, swallowing whatever was in front of her. Marty walked out of the workshop. She stood in front of the sliding glass door begging for his acknowledgment, a slight gesture, a crumb of reinforcement.

His stare met hers across the yard. It was heavy and direct. Her breath caught. She refused to take more air until he did something. Something that told her all was not lost due to this misunderstanding. Marty smiled weakly, licking his lips. He looked over at Dan’s car, his brows pulling together. Allie smiled back, shrugging, still uncertain what he was thinking. Her body unwound. They were still bound by their secrecy, a future unknown, a presence raging within itself.

While she choked down breakfast, Dan suggested that they invite Marty and Tess over for dinner. Eating had now become out of the question. Allie hadn’t seen Tess since the day before, her vacant driveway a relief. Allie couldn’t bear the two of them at once, especially now that things between Tess and Marty were strained.

Allie eagerly volunteered to walk over and invite Marty. She dressed carefully, selecting a pair of pale-pink shorts, a therapeutic color she would use on a baby shower card, along with a white, sleeveless blouse. Tiny buttons ran in a line down to the rise of her breasts.

The workshop door was now closed. Allie stepped across the paving stones ascending onto the porch. She tapped on the glass. She heard water running in the kitchen. Marty came to the door, his dark, moody eyes drinking her in through the glass. He slid the door open. Allie walked past him, turning to meet his stare.

“I didn’t know.” She dissected his expression, anticipating his response, wanting him to say he believed her. His face was disgruntled, a complex mess. “He came home last night at 1:00 a.m. I actually thought it was you sneaking over. I wished it was,” Allie sighed. She looked down at her feet, fresh grass clippings stuck to her manicured, pink toes.

“He didn’t call?” Marty’s eyes narrowed, not fully convinced.

“No. He said earlier this week that he had to stay. I mean, he’s going back,” she stammered. “It’s just that this was meant to be a surprise.” Allie pulled him away from the door, around the corner into his small, dark laundry room.

“How long will he be here?” Marty’s finger ran down the row of buttons on her blouse, the tip of his finger tracing the outline of her nipple. Despite the heat that he ignited, she shivered.

“Two days.” Her nipples peaked, pushing against the soft cotton, her body responding to his touch.

“I can do two days,” he whispered, grazing her lips with his, a teasing dance.

“Dan wants you to come for dinner,” Allie added between breaths, her palm sliding over his housed cock. It bowed beneath the zipper of his jeans.

“Jesus Christ, Allie.” His head snapped back, his eyes flashing.

“He invited you. What’d you want me to tell him? ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s too awkward ’cause, see, Marty and I are’—”

“Enough, Allie. What time?” He pressed her body up against the washing machine, the feel of cool metal against the backs of her thighs.

“He said five thirty.” She ground her hips against him, pressing her body into his.

“You’re all right with this?” He cocked his head at her.

“We’ll be okay. It’s only two days,” Allie reminded him, trying to sound casual. She held her breath, hoping he didn’t ask if she and Dan had had sex. Allie couldn’t deal with dodging the jealous bullet right now.

“No offense, he’s been nice to me, but I’ll be glad to see him go.” Marty’s hand traveled up her blouse. He pawed at her bra, squeezing her breast. A low growl oozed from his mouth.

Chapter 18

Dan had gone out to get beer. Allie worked in the kitchen, sliding on the beef cubes for shish kebabs. She’d made a blueberry pie for dessert. Her nerves had settled. Her being able to be in the same room with Dan and the man she was having an affair with had the feeling of a split personality. She was empowered, and at moments repulsed. She was relieved when Dan pulled in the driveway before Marty came over. As she rinsed out the wine glasses, Dan set the brown bag on the counter then reached for her, squeezing her tight.

“It sure is nice to be home.” He leaned over her from behind, licking the edge of her ear, an old behavior of his she’d forgotten.

“It’s nice to have you,” she said softly as he rubbed his freshly shaved cheek against hers.

“I can’t wait till tonight, when I have you alone. I know exactly how I’m gonna take you.” His hands caressed her back. “I have to admit that last night I was tired, but I’m well rested for tonight.” The stiff ends of his gelled hair tickled the side of her face. Last night’s struggle resurrected itself, gnawing through her, taking hold like a parasite.

Allie reached up and took his hand. She swallowed past the sharp-edged pain. Part of her was waking up to him, his familiar smell, his light touch. Could a woman want two men? Was she crazy? Allie suddenly felt hopeless. She was so sure that the feelings she had for Dan had receded, that their relationship had gone flat. The anger and pent-up resentment had made it so easy. Having him here, exhibiting all of his warm, soft ways, had her heart turned inside out.

Allie reviewed her thoughts and opinions about Tess. Allie’s previous judgments made her feel like a fraud, but she genuinely cared about people. Her heart was battling a dual attraction, not to mention the affections that she had for them both.
This is a mess!
Could her heart hold both Dan and Marty? Allie silently argued the angles in her mind. Should she just tell Dan?

“Marty won’t overstay his welcome, don’t worry.” She turned around, meeting Dan’s heavy, intimate gaze. His pewter-gray eyes were glazed over, his expression dreamy, full of need.

* * * *

Dan carried a tray of hors d’oeuvres over to the wrought iron table. Marty leaned against the railing of the deck. He needed to slow down on the drinking, already having downed two beers in under a half hour.

His fingers gripped the empty bottle when Allie emerged from behind the sliding glass door. The pale-mossy-green sundress she had on made everything about her radiate. Her wheat-colored skin glowed. Her eyes popped out at him. Thin straps rested on her curved shoulders. The strands of her hair glowed like a blazing sunset. Marty set the bottle down and grabbed a glass of wine nearby, tossing back half of the burgundy liquid. His tongue rebelled, swelling at the tartness, the taste in his mouth somehow relating to the shaky ground he was fighting to stand on. Dan waved Marty toward the platter of raw vegetables and dip.

“Hey, Marty.” Allie closed the door behind them.

“Hi, hey, I was telling Dan earlier about the mural.” His eyes immediately reverted back to Dan. “She’s done a great job.”

“She’s a fantastic artist.” Dan rested his hand on her shoulder. The tip of his finger caressed her skin. Marty felt the burn in his throat. It spread through his body like a disease he couldn’t cure. “I’d like to see it.” Dan tipped his bottle of beer back.

“Let me take you over. Do you mind, Allie?” Marty avoided her eyes. He couldn’t hold her gaze, afraid of where it might lead, not wanting to look as if he knew her intimately, like a lover.

Marty felt her at his back, knowing that Allie was watching them walk across the yard. He wondered how she was holding up. She seemed to be okay, her casualness almost professional.

They had dinner out back, the three of them. Marty asked Dan a lot of questions about his profession. It was easier to keep the focus on him. He kept the evening flowing, not allowing for any uncomfortable silences or a shift in conversation. A safe place, not having to choose between lies and the truth.

The darker it became, the more of a visual thief Marty became, the dim glow of the citronella candles aiding him. He peeled the layers of her away, looking below the ones for show. Dan excused himself, going into the house. Marty’s lungs pulled in a rush of air, welcoming the breather. He waited for Dan to shut the glass door, having put on the central air earlier.

“How dare you torment me with that dress,” he mumbled, grinding his teeth. Just talking about it had his cock rearing its ugly head.

“I didn’t mean to,” Allie whispered.

Marty gave her a savage look. “Wait until he’s gone. You’re in big trouble.”

The door slid open and Dan emerged through the darkness, carrying another tray with pie and coffee.

“So where’s our friend Tess these days?” Dan set the tray down, his glance moving between them.

Marty shook his head. Tess was the last thing he wanted to talk about. The mere mention of her had the food curdling in his gut.

“I guess it didn’t take long for you to get acquainted with our crazy neighbor, huh, Marty?” Dan laughed.

“She has a lot of friends in Readington now,” Allie added. Her eyes flickered at his over the rim of her mug. Marty sipped his coffee, not trusting his words due to the level of liquor in his blood.

“No kidding, mm.” Dan started hacking away at his pie.

Marty waited, unsure if Allie would inform Dan of Tess’s swing club activities. Dan let the topic die like settling dust. Marty left right after dessert. He’d had all he could take of their charade. He, of course, had to firm up when Allie was going to come over and work on the mural.

* * * *

“You’ve done a phenomenal job on his mural.” Dan dried while she washed.

“It does look nice, doesn’t it?” Allie turned and put the last pot in the drying rack.

“Something else looks quite nice also.” Dan tossed the dish towel on the island and slid his arms around her.

Dan’s kiss was slow and unassuming. It sent Allie into a backward spiral, taking her back into their past, the way things were before everything became complicated, before distance grew into a bottomless pit, a pit in which Allie was tired of hearing the echo of her voice in.

* * * *

Dan led her upstairs to their bed. Their bodies spun in an emotional revolution of neglected affections. Allie switched her internal gears, yet she wanted to satisfy him. She let him go just deep enough so she wouldn’t miss him once he was gone, no weaning required. Her inner layers would be saved for Marty, he being able to meet her demand for daily nourishment.

“Have you thought about where you’d like to go?” Dan ran his lips up the inside of her thigh, staring up her body.